


the rubble or our sins

by WhiteLadyoftheRing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteLadyoftheRing/pseuds/WhiteLadyoftheRing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world ends. Not in flame or flood, nor in blinding light or thick darkness. No. For Snow, the world ends with the echo of a baby's cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the rubble or our sins

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 'A Curious Thing' but probably vaguely AU from 'Kansas'. Inspired by Bastille's 'Pompeii'.
> 
> This was originally meant as my wonderful beta Angie's birthday present, but after last night's episode it kind of went in the opposite direction I was intending. So if she likes it then yay! If not, I'm working on something a little less ... different for her instead.
> 
> Please tell me what you think!

_**the rubble or our sins** _

_But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like you've been here before?_

_-Bastille, 'Pompeii'_

_._

The world ends.

Not in flame or flood, nor in blinding light or thick darkness. No. For Snow, the world ends with the echo of a baby's cry.

She loses everything in that moment - her daughter, her husband, her whole heart. She loses her dignity as she drags herself from bed and stumbles down the hall to the nursery, weak and tired from childbirth, legs buckling beneath her weight. She loses everything.

But more than that; in that blinking moment as the thick fog of magic consumes her and she holds her husband's lifeless body in her arms, she loses the most important thing of all - hope.

The world ends, and there's nothing left.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends.

_Almost_.

The world _almost_ ends, and Snow nearly loses everything anew, falling through the proverbial rabbit hole and into a land ravaged by time and neglect, a land reclaimed by nature and dark with magic.

But it's only _almost_ this time, evidenced by the thick chunk of Emma's jacket that's curled into her fist; the worn leather a reminder that hope is never truly lost, only forgotten.

The world _almost_ ends, but she has Emma.

And for now, that's all that matters.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends.

_Almost._

… _again._

And it's almost her fault. Because once more her foolish optimism has gotten the better of her, and she's only just now realizing that sometimes there is no right answer; sometimes there is no _right_ thing to do. Sometimes, things don't turn out fine just because you made the right decision, and sometimes the world just _ends_ and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

And so the world _almost_ ends.

But it doesn't - not then.

No, it ends when Snow sees that Emma's lost her child and her child's father all in one day; when Snow sees the last flicker of hope die in her daughter's eyes, and can't help but remember the ache of loss - a lifetime ago and realms away - as Emma slipped from her arms, as she held Charming and he slipped away too. She can't help but remember, and can't help but think that this isn't the life that she wanted for her daughter.

And maybe they're all still alive, and maybe Charming is still there beside her, and maybe she's still got a fistful of her daughter's jacket in her hand. And maybe for everyone else, life goes on.

But for Emma, the world ends.

And so for Snow, the world ends in all the ways that matter.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends.

Completely this time, and Snow smiles as she watches her daughter go.

She smiles because she knows Emma will be all right. Emma, who is so much more than she is - stronger, braver; Emma who is every bit as noble and infuriatingly stubborn as Charming. Emma who stole her heart from the very first fluttering of tiny feet within her womb.

She smiles because she knows this is Emma's best chance; knows that it's Henry's best chance too.

She smiles because now, despite everything that's happened and everything they've lost, she can give her daughter the things that she never had.

(She smiles because it's all she can do to hold back a rush of tears, all she can do to keep from holding on and never letting go. She smiles because she's the mother and she's got to be strong enough for the both of them. She smiles because it's the last they'll ever see one another and she smiles because she's losing her daughter _again_ and it _isn't_ _fair_ and there's nothing she can do but _smile_.)

The world ends, and Snow smiles as she falls apart.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends.

And this time, Snow is to blame.

The world ends as Charming's heart turns to dust within her hand - that same heart she's protected and loved for as long as she can remember; that same heart she's listened to and memorized a hundred thousand times before.

And he's gone.

(But he isn't gone; not really. She still feels his love in the stirring of their child within her, still feels the warmth of his hand and the taste of his lips.)

And in the end, he isn't gone at all.

But the world still ends - not in flame or flood; not in blinding light or thick darkness.

It ends, and Snow feels her own heart pounding in Charming's chest.

It ends, and even half a heart feels heavier than ever before.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends.

And it begins again.

It always does, Snow realizes. Just as snowdrops remain even through the harshest of winters, and just as true love is more powerful than any curse, the world begins anew. Even when everything falls apart, comes crashing down around them, there is new life bursting at the seams, pushing into the world with hope and love.

And so for Snow, the world begins with a baby's cry.

It begins with her family together at last; with her husband, her daughter and her grandson; with a brand new life, pink and squirming and _beautiful_ , thriving and real in her arms. It begins with the promise of tomorrow.

The world begins, even though it will end again soon.

.

_Where do we begin?_

.

The world ends. Perhaps in flame or flood; in blinding light or thick darkness. And for a moment, everything is lost.

But it begins again.

It always does.


End file.
